


Easy Like Sunday Morning

by ViiA01



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, M/M, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViiA01/pseuds/ViiA01
Summary: As he watched, Bruce was certain that his parents would approve. Hal may not be the socialite wife they envisioned, and Bruce’s children may not the be biological, but this was a family he had built, and he knew they would be happy for him.For Rockleesimp as part of the Batlantern Discord Exchange!The prompt was 'Domestic Life'.
Relationships: Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 153





	Easy Like Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Not me, having like four months to write this and leaving it until the night before… I learnt NOTHING in university.
> 
> Anyway – this is for my exchange partner, Rockleesimp as a part of the BatLantern Discord exchange! The prompt was Domestic Life.
> 
> Also a big thank you to kpn.matsuo (on insta) for the absolutely ADORABLE art they did of Hal and Bruce in Halloween costumes for me as part of the same exchange. You should all go check it out, it’s super cute. Hal is a dinosaur.
> 
> Title is because I was listening to the song by Lionel Richie. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Bruce woke when Alfred pulled the curtains back.

Sunlight streamed through the French doors, bright and sunny.

“It’s Sunday,” Bruce said, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the bright light.

“And it’s nearly ten am,” Alfred countered. “It’s high past time you be up and productive.”

Bruce sighed and relaxed back onto the pillows. The sheets were rumpled and several of the pillows had fallen off the bed in the middle of the night. The other side of the bed was empty and cool, telling him that Hal had probably gotten up hours before.

He supposed he should send his thanks to the United States Air Force for the annoying morning person that was his husband.

“I have taken the liberty of bringing a cup of hot coffee up with me,” Alfred told Bruce pleasantly, bustling across the room to the wardrobe. “It’s in the sitting area for you.”

The bed was comfortable and though Bruce wasn’t tired, he knew he could easily fall back asleep if he just lay here and didn’t move.

The thought was tempting.

There was a bang from the closet and Alfred reemerged holding the hamper.

“Up, Master Bruce,” Alfred chastised. “I’m doing the sheets today and I would like for you not to be _in_ them, when I wash them.”

“I own this manor,” Bruce called as Alfred walked out of the bedroom and into the sitting room.

“Of course you do, Master Bruce!” Alfred called back. “Brunch is in twenty minutes.”

Bruce sighed again and sat up, rubbing his face. Outside, the birds were singing cheerily, and the bird feeder Damian had put on their balcony had attracted a few colourful birds that were pecking away interestedly.

Swinging his legs out of bed, Bruce stretched and then walked across to the bathroom. He washed his face and shaved before heading to the closet to get dressed.

He picked a pair of shorts and a light cotton shirt, given that he didn’t think he would be leaving the grounds today, and the heat was hardly the thing to wear a turtleneck in.

The manor was quiet as he left the master wing and headed downstairs.

Bruce followed his nose into the kitchen and found Alfred at the stove, sleeves rolled up and an apron on as he tended to a large pan of eggs. The oven was on and Bruce could see a plate of bacon inside.

“Ah, Master Bruce, you’re finally vertical,” Alfred said teasingly.

Bruce grunted. “Where are the others?”

“Master’s Damian and Hal are outside attempting to put shoes on Titus and Ace,” Alfred told him with a wry smile. “Apparently the sidewalk on the way to the dog park gets too hot for the dogs feet.”

Bruce sighed, imagining the giant Great Dane stumbling around in dog shoes. “And how’s that going?”

Alfred’s smile grew a little. “Not well.”

“Maybe I’ll just lean on the council to get some new shade cloths for the path,” Bruce said, taking a seat at the kitchen island to watch Alfred cook their breakfast.

“Perhaps you might get them to plant some trees and use the shadecloth as an intermediate solution,” Alfred suggested as he pulled out a new pan. He set it on the element to heat up and started mixing a large bowl of something.

Bruce considered the idea. Trees would be ideal, but saplings would take years to grow. “Transplant trees maybe,” he said. “We have some here that aren’t thriving.”

Alfred looked pleased. “I shall call the arborist on Monday.”

For a moment, Bruce just watched Alfred cook them breakfast. The large mixing bowl turned out to contain blueberry pancake mixture.

Alfred hummed as he worked, as he had always done, ever since Bruce was a boy. He looked contented as he prepared breakfast and Bruce relaxed against the stool, taking in the quiet sounds of breakfast cooking and the rustle of the summer breeze outside.

Bruce always worried that perhaps Alfred was unfulfilled here at Wayne Manor, doing cooking and cleaning, but Alfred never complained. And seeing Alfred bustle around the kitchen, the toast popping out of the toaster, it soothed some of that worry.

He glanced out the window, looking out over the sweeping back lawn and vegetable that Damian had insisted on planting. “Where’s Tim?” he asked.

Alfred sighed. “Still asleep. He was up until all hours this morning, I wager, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him.”

Bruce pressed his lips together.

Tim’s insomnia was an ongoing battle that went far beyond the normal exhaustion of a teenager. Not to mention his bouts of hyper-focus kept him up for days at a time.

“I’ll call the Academy tomorrow and have him excused for the day,” Bruce decided. Tim would be up sometime later in the day, but if he had been up all night focused on whatever had caught his attention, the he would most likely still be tired come tomorrow morning.

“I agree,” Alfred said quietly. “Perhaps we need to find another sleep specialist for him. I do worry.”

Bruce hummed in agreement. He did worry about Tim’s sleep, or lack thereof. “I’ll make some inquiries, Tam has similar problems, so maybe she can help point us in a direction of a good doctor.”

The kitchen fell quiet again, but it was comfortable. Alfred had always embodied a quiet sort of calm and sitting here, it was peaceful and easy.

Bruce leaned on the countertop. “Would you like help?” he asked, as Alfred juggled turning the eggs, pancakes, and buttering the toast.

Alfred looked unimpressed by the offer. “Go and find Masters’ Damian and Hal,” he said instead. “I think they’re down near the poolhouse.”

Bruce accepted the dismissal with a snort. Alfred didn’t like anyone touching his cooking.

It was warm out, enough that Bruce wondered if he might be able to convince Jason and Stephanie to come and finish their swimming lessons.

Stephanie might be tempted with the thought of lounging, but Jason would be a harder sell.

As he walked across the patio, to the poolhouse, he heard Hal and Damian, and Titus’ telltale booming bark.

He found them tucked in between the side of the manor and the pool house.

Neither Hal nor Damian seemed to notice him, too preoccupied with fussing around with Titus. Or in Hal’s case, taking a video while Damian hovered around the dog holding the end of a red leash.

Bruce paused and watched in amusement as Titus, wearing a set of black dog shoes, wobbled around awkwardly. The dog didn’t seem to know exactly what to do with himself, lifting his feet far too high and stumbling around on legs that didn’t want to bend.

Ace spotted him first, lying in the shade by the manor wall. He wagged his tail and heaved himself up, walking over stiffly to look up at Bruce.

Bruce rubbed his head, noting that Ace wasn’t wearing the dog shoes.

“You’re finally awake!” Hal called jokingly.

Bruce shook his head at him and then looked at Titus pityingly. The poor dog was still stumbling around awkwardly, looking at Damian with adoring eyes. “He looks ridiculous.”

“He just needs to get used to them,” Damian said, rubbing Titus’ ears. “Rescue dogs wear shoes all the time.”

Titus shook one of his feet furiously and then looked up at Damian in confusion.

Bruce looked at Hal. “Stop encouraging him,” he said quietly, moving over to stand next to Hal, who was still filming. “Dog shoes, really?”

“The concrete gets really hot,” Hal insisted. “Even in the morning, it’s hot enough to hurt my hand. We can’t walk Titus on it.”

“Titus also has ten acres to be walked on, right here, in fact,” Bruce said, putting a hand on Hal’s lower back and nodding at the back lawn.

“He needs to be socialized!” Damian piped in, towing Titus over to them on the leash. “He’s a social dog and Ace is too old to want to play now.”

Ace huffed, seemingly offended. He leaned on Bruce’s leg, tail swishing lazily.

Hal leaned into Bruce. “You heard him,” he said with a smile. “Titus needs to be socialized.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and looked at Titus. “I don’t think he likes the dog shoes,” he told Damian, pointing to where Titus was staring at his feet and scraping the shoe on the patio tiles.

“He just needs to wear them a bit more,” Damian said imperiously. “The concrete gets too hot and the council worker said all they can do is put water on it to cool it down.”

“I’ll talk to the council and see if there’s something we can do about getting some shade put in for the dogs,” Bruce said gently. “Maybe even some trees. But we can talk about that later- in the meantime brunch is ready.”

Damian looked unconvinced. “The shoes stay,” he decided, before leading Titus back towards the kitchen.

Bruce and Hal watched them go, Titus stumbling and flailing ungracefully and Damian encouraging him along with some treats and affectionate head rubs.

Hal snickered. “He’s looks like a drunken deer,” he snorted. “Dick’s going to love the video.”

“You’re not putting my dog in those,” Bruce said, scratching Ace’s ears.

Hal looked at Ace. “You want dog shoes, Ace?”

Ace sneezed and walked away.

Bruce snorted. “I think that’s a no.”

“In all seriousness, we gotta do something about that park,” Hal said as they followed Damian down the patio, to the covered decking where Alfred was setting out the meal. “There’s only one place for them to get water and there’s barely any shade for them.”

Bruce nodded. “I’ll see what I can do the next time I see the Mayor. Some of my donations have already been set aside for parks, so I’ll see if I can’t plant a suggestion in his head.”

Hal was giving him an oddly amused look. “If only people knew their beloved billionaire was giving bribe money to the mayor and playing politics behind closed doors to give his son a fancy new dog park.”

“It’s a public park!” Bruce said. “I’m not buying votes for President or funding misinformation. And it’s not behind closed doors- my donation was televised-”

“It’s a slippery slope-” Hal danced away from Bruce’s elbow, laughing loudly.

Bruce huffed. “Go and help Damian with his dog shoes,” he muttered. “I’ll help Alfred ferry the food out.”

Hal laughed at him some more and then raised his hands in surrender before leaving to go and assist Damian in taking the dog shoes off.

“Master Hal is right,” Alfred said, coming to stand next to him, holding tray with a plate piled high with crispy balls of falafel, and bowls of freshly made hummus and fool. “One political donation in the name of a dog park quickly leads to grandiose ideas of vigilantism.”

Bruce looked at his adopted father in shock at the out of the blue comment.

Alfred gave him a serene smile and then bustled away to set the falafel down.

Bruce glowered after Alfred. “You know, I own this manor,” he called, looking at all three of his family.

Alfred looked up, unbothered. “Of course, Master Bruce,” he said. “Would you fetch the raspberry jam?”

Hal was laughing at Bruce behind Alfred, holding Titus’ collar while Damian unstrapped the shoes.

Bruce grunted and walked back into the kitchen to collect the jam Alfred wanted.

He was trying to find the raspberry among the row of Alfred’s jams when he heard a thump and a grumbled swear word.

He turned around and saw that Tim had woken up and come downstairs and was now fumbling around with the empty coffee pot and a mug.

Sighing, Bruce picked a jar of jam at random and walked out of the pantry to take the pot away from Tim. “It’s too early for that, chum,” he said, setting the pot aside. “Did we wake you?”

Tim shook his head. “Did I miss brunch?” he asked, blinking sleepily. His hair was a mess and the ever present dark circles under his eyes looked even worse than normal.

“We’re just about to start,” Bruce said. “We can put a plate aside for you if you want to head back to bed.”

Tim shook his head. “I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep,” he said, rolling his head shoulders. “Where’s the food?”

Bruce snorted and guided Tim out the door.

“He awakens!” Hal called cheerily. “Morning Timbo!”

Tim smiled. “Hi Hal, morning Alfred.”

Damian was giving Tim a flinty eyed look of brotherly suspicion.

Tim returned it, clutching his empty cup. “Damian.”

“Drake.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at their unending dramatics. “Alright, that’s enough. Both of you sit down,” he ordered, pushing Tim into a chair next to Damian. “Damian, no feeding Titus at the table,” he said sternly, spotting the small hand that had snuck out towards the pork sausages.

Damian glowered at him.

Hal smiled at Bruce as Bruce took his seat between him and Alfred. His plate was already piled high with a little bit of everything and he was holding a ball of falafel with a bite taken out of it.

He offered it to Bruce.

Bruce ate it from his hand and smiled at the loud cries of disgust that garnered from the other side of the table.

“Father! Desist with this behaviour at once!”

“I just woke up- really?!” 

Hal’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed.

* * *

Bruce made the trek up to Damian’s room at midday, knocking a few times.

Damian called for him to come in and Bruce found him at his desk, utterly absorbed in a sketch of a small bird with colourful plumage on its chest.

Bruce smiled. Damian had come a long way in the two years he had been in the Manor and it was nice to see his son finally engaging in his hobbies without the same tinge of guilt that had accompanied it before. “It’s twelve, Damian,” he said. “You ready to go to the shelter with Titus?”

For a moment, it didn’t seem like Damian had heard him and then his back straightened and his head whipped around to peer at his computer. Damian gasped and shot out of the chair, picture and pencil abandoned as he tore across his room to grab his bag.

Titus practically fell off the day bed in his excitement at seeing Damian moving.

In less than thirty seconds, Damian was out of his bedroom door, Titus hot on his heels.

“Father!” Damian shouted impatiently a moment later. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

Bruce huffed. “Yeah, it’s my fault if we’re late,” he muttered, following Damian down to the garage.

Damian had gotten Titus to sit by the Cayenne, the trunk already open. Titus was on his red leash, tail whipping across the ground excitedly, already knowing, despite only being eight months old, that the car meant fun.

“You have to be nice to Lucky today, Titus,” Damian said sternly. “He’s old and can’t play rough anymore, okay?”

Titus barked loudly, bouncing from paw to paw.

Bruce winced at the piercing bark that echoed around the garage

Damian knelt down in front of his dog, looking faintly ridiculous contrasted against such a large animal. He put his finger in front of his mouth. “Inside voice, Titus,” he said. “Inside voice.”

Titus’ tail wagged excitedly and then he let out a whispery, quiet bark, eyes fixed on Damian adoringly.

Bruce blinked, shocked.

“Good boy, Titus!” Damian said, a bright smile crossing his face as he rubbed Titus’ face and head excitedly. “Good boy!”

Bruce was impressed, even more so when Titus let out another soft bark. “When did you teach him to do that?”

Damian looked up, Titus rubbing his head all over his front. “When Drake came back from San Francisco,” he said, neck reddening and his eyes sliding away in embarrassment. “I didn’t want Titus to wake him up.”

Bruce hid a smile. “That’s very kind of you, Damian,” he said.

Damian’s cheeks had gone red now too. “I only did it because he looks pathetic enough with his panda eyes!” he said quickly. “And sometimes Titus forgets.”

Titus looked up at Bruce, tongue lolling out and a dopey look of joy on his face.

“Good boy Titus,” Bruce said, and he got a delighted wiggle in response. “Are you ready to go? We don’t want to keep Jon and Colin waiting.”

Damian’s smile came back, and he hurried to open the door and usher into the trunk of the car.

Bruce made sure Titus was leashed in properly and then that Damian was wearing his seatbelt before he started the car.

Damian volunteering with Titus at the shelter to play with the animals and clean their kennels, had been Dick’s idea. Jon had heard about it and begged Lois to tag along and then he had heard about Damian’s friend Colin, and now it was a normal thing for the three boys to spend a few hours at the shelter every week.

So far, Dick’s idea had been paying off in spades. Damian had friends his own age and even if it was subtle, Bruce had noticed him mellowing out and acting more and more like his own age, instead of the rigid soldier Ra’s had wanted.

On the way to the shelter, Damian told Bruce about the ostrich that had been surrendered the week before, recounting all the facts the shelter worker had told them, and about the best way to care for such a large bird.

Bruce was just grateful when Damian proclaimed he thought the ostrich should be sent to a bird rehabilitation farm.

The last thing they needed was an ostrich running around the manor grounds. Alfred would have a fit.

By the time they arrived at the shelter, Titus was beside himself with excitement and Bruce knew all about how ostriches reproduced.

Colin and Jon were already at the shelter by the time they parked, waiting for Damian outside the door.

Jon, as usual, jumped up and waved excitedly, nearly tripping over himself. Colin was a little more subdued, hopping off the bench he and Jon had been sitting on.

Bruce had barely put the car in park before Damian was out the door and opening the trunk to get Titus out.

By the time Bruce got out of the car, Damian had already taken off across the parking lot, Titus bounding along beside him eagerly.

Jon and Colin met Damian in a mess of loud voices and barking. Jon immediately pounced on Damian, pulling him into a tight hug and nearly lifting Damian off the ground. Colin on the other hand, dropped to his knees to give Titus a hug around the neck, sending Titus’ tail wagging furiously.

Damian fought Jon off with a scowl and the three boys fussed around at the entrance for the little.

Bruce leaned against the car door, watching to make sure they all go inside safely. Jon and Damian were more than capable of defending themselves, and Colin too, if push came to shove, but it was a fatherly concern Bruce couldn’t quite shake.

The boys talked among themselves, Jon bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

In unison they all turned to look at Bruce.

Bruce pushed off the car and turned to look back into the car, just in case Damian had forgotten something.

Feet hurrying across the asphalt turned him back around.

Damian came to a stop right in front of him. “Father, Colin and Jon are coming over for dinner,” he told Bruce imperiously.

Bruce blinked. “What- Damian, did you get permission from Colin’s foster parents? What about Lois-” he asked, but Damian was already running back towards the entrance, where Colin and Jon were waiting. “Damian!”

* * *

Bruce arrived back at the manor, armed with the important task of informing Alfred that Colin and Jon would be coming for dinner and that Damian would like vegetable burgers.

“They’re in the sunroom,” Alfred said with a slight smile. “Master Hal was going to help Tim with his calculus.”

Bruce imagined most of the conversation he was about to walk into was going to go over his head. “Well, I’ll just stop in to let them know about dinner.”

“Thank you, my boy,” Alfred said. “And perhaps it might be an idea to invite Masters Dick and Jason, and Miss Stephanie as well. I think they would appreciate a family dinner.”

Bruce paused. “I mean, you’re the one cooking,” he said.

Alfred nodded. “I shall call them and tell them they’re expected,” he said. “Now out of my kitchen, I need to get cracking on these vegetable patties and chips. Perhaps chipotle mayo as well, since Master Colin does seem to enjoy it.”

Bruce left Alfred to it, seeing as Alfred was already immersed in planning what to make for five hungry teenagers and four grown with large appetites.

He made his way through the quiet manor, heading for the sunroom.

And sure enough, Bruce found Tim and Hal in there. Tim’s homework was strewn out across the coffee table, textbook open and a few maths problems scribbled out in the margins.

But they weren’t elbow deep in complicated maths equations. Instead, Tim was sprawled on the couch, one leg over the arm and head pillowed in Hal’s lap. He was drooling, and there was a wet patch on Hal’s shorts.

Hal didn’t seem to notice, scrolling through his phone lazily.

“I thought you were doing homework,” Bruce said.

“He got confused between surds and indices,” Hal said. “So we took a break and then he fell asleep.”

Bruce approached them, looking down at them fondly.

“Turns out,” Hal said lazily, “if he’s confused enough and I take his phone, he’ll eventually get so bored that he’ll go to sleep just for something to do.”

“How long?”

“About an hour,” Hal said. “Alfred said you were going to talk to Tam about any specialists she might know?”

“He can’t go on like this,” Bruce said. “When Kon contacted me, I thought maybe it was just the added stress of the Titans but that doesn’t seem to be it.”

“An odd duck, hey Timmy?” Hal said fondly. “Always gotta make life hard for yourself.”

Tim didn’t move, well and truly asleep. For once, his face was clear of his usual look of concentration, leaving him look much more his actual age.

He looked peaceful and even if it would mess up his sleep cycle, Bruce was more than happy to leave him to sleep for the rest of the afternoon. Gotham Academy would understand.

“Colin and Jon are coming over for dinner,” Bruce said quietly, taking a seat next to Hal on the other side of the sofa.

“Do their parents know that?”

Bruce shrugged.

“Okay, does Alfred know?” Hal asked, obviously amused.

“I called him on the way home. He’s going to make vegetable burgers on the patio since the weather’s so nice.”

Hal’s arm was warm when it pressed against Bruce’s and his eyes were soft. “If the other two musketeers are coming, we should invite the rest of the batlings,” he said softly. “Though, let me call Jason or else we’ll have to deal with two bruised egos.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. He and Jason rarely argued these days, and if they did, it was hardly the violent confrontations of prior years. “Alfred’s way ahead of you. Cassandra and Duke are still in Hong Kong, but Dick and Stephanie will collect Jason sometime around six.”

Hal’s mouth opened and he shot Bruce an amused look. “Is… Jason aware of that plan?” he asked, obviously on the verge of laughing, no doubt imagining the argument Dick and Jason would get into once Dick showed up on his doorstep.

“Well he will be at six,” Bruce said dryly.

Hal chuckled, shaking his head. “Waynes,” he said, shooting Bruce a look.

“That includes you, you realise?” Bruce pointed. “I have the marriage certificate to prove it.”

“I want a refund.”

“No refunds.”

“Shut up,” Tim mumbled. “It’s so gross listening to you two flirt.”

Hal dropped a hand on Tim’s head. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” he said.

“I’m trying,” Tim grumbled, turning his head into Hal’s stomach.

Hal snorted lightly. “Alright odd duck, we’ll be quiet so you can sleep.”

Tim huffed, settling more comfortably on the sofa. “Good,” he muttered, but it was slurred and slow as he drifted back into sleep.

Bruce watched until Tim feel back into a deep sleep, the tenseness in his limbs loosening into the relaxed limpness of sleep.

Hal snorted softly and poked Tim in the head. “Odd duck,” he said fondly.

Bruce watched the exchange, not sure what the full feeling in his chest was.

Hal made sure Tim was asleep fully before he unlocked his phone, pulling up a YouTube video.

The sunroom was quiet for a few moments, Hal watching a video of Oliver on the red carpet, subtitles flashing across the screen.

If someone had asked Bruce five years ago, whether he saw himself sitting here with Hal Jordan, he might have had them committed to Arkham for insanity. Back then, the thought of Hal Jordan as anything but an annoyance would have been alien to Bruce.

And the thought of Hal in any sort of domestic situation that wasn’t bachelorhood- that was so far out of what Bruce would even consider.

But here they were.

Bruce looked down and took Hal’s left hand, lifting it up to examine the two rings there. His mother’s engagement ring glittered on Hal’s hand, the stone recut into smaller gems that were set into a titanium band.

Hal had been concerned about the ring in a fight, and it had been Stephanie’s suggestion to use titanium for the band, and to have the stone recut into smaller gems that wouldn’t stick out from the band and potentially be knocked off.

Sometimes, Bruce wondered if his parents would approve.

They would be in their sixties by now, another generation- one that hadn’t had the LGBTQ reckoning yet.

He liked to think that they would. From all accounts, they were progressive, almost radically so for their times and Hal was a good man.

Perhaps, Bruce thought, even if his parents might not have, it didn’t matter because Alfred did.

Hal was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“What is it?” he asked finally, pausing his video.

Sometimes, when Bruce looked at Hal, the arrogant, reckless flyboy who loved to fly planes, Bruce wondered if he was truly happy here with Bruce, tied down to Earth and one place.

It had been one of the things Bruce had first noticed about Hal- he was always on the go and his commitment issues were a result of his insatiable desire for adventure and new things.

“Are you happy here?” Bruce asked.

“Really?” Hal asked, a fond smile curling one side of his mouth despite his long suffering tone.

Bruce looked back at him.

Hal sighed. “Bruce, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” he said plainly. “Well that and if I leave, I’m on the hook for exorbitant amounts of child support.”

The out of the blue comment caught Bruce off guard and he snorted in amusement before he could help himself. “And alimony,” he agreed.

Hal sighed. “And alimony. I’m starting to think you’re with me just for my money, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t help the smile.

His husband’s smile turned soft. “I’m happy, Bruce,” he said.

It was a simple statement, but it soothed some of the worry in Bruce’s chest.

Hal pressed a little closer, going back to watching his video.

Bruce relaxed into the sofa, taking in the quiet of the room and the faint sounds of the trees and birds outside.

The sun room was warm, but not hot and Hal’s hand in his was a solid, comforting weight. The couch was comfortable and with the knowledge that Tim was safely asleep, and Damian was spending time with children his own age for once, Bruce felt content and relaxed.

Hal’s thumb brushed over the back of his hand, the rhythm of it lulling Bruce to sleep.

* * *

Bruce woke to the sound of whispered voice and Tim tucking his head further into his neck.

Blinking sleep away, Bruce opened his eyes to Stephanie and Dick standing over the couch, phones in hand.

Hal had vanished and now both Tim and Bruce were lying on the sofa, Tim tucked between Bruce’s side and the back of the sofa. His son was still asleep, or at least pretending to be if the disgruntled frown was anything to go by.

The warm sun had receded, leaving the room warm, but darkening and over the horizon, Bruce could see the sun dipping low.

“Alfie sent us to wake you for dinner,” Stephanie said. “We’re having burgers and I bought fruit salad.”

“It’s really good,” Dick chimed in.

“You’re not supposed to eat it before dinner,” Tim mumbled, sitting up. His eyes were half closed, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. “Hi Steph, hi Dick.”

The dark circles under his eyes were less prominent than they had been.

Dick smiled at Tim and patted his hair down fondly. “Hi Timmy.”

Stephanie tucked her phone away. “Upsie daisy,” she said to them. “Alfie’s burgers smell really good and I haven’t eaten all day and I am _starving_.”

Dick’s smile vanished. “Steph!” he scolded. “What?”

“I got distracted!” she insisted.

Tim got off Bruce, rubbing his face. He already looked more awake than Bruce had seen him in days, though still more pale than Bruce would like. “How do you forget to eat?” he asked in response to one of Stephanie’s excuses.

Stephanie and Dick gave him identical looks of deadpan disbelief.

Bruce pushed himself up off the sofa. He felt rested and warm, the nap restoring the alertness he had been lacking all day. “Well since it appears two people in this room can’t remember to eat, how about we go get something to eat now?”

“I was distracted!” Stephanie repeated loudly. “I saw a girl on Instagram growing spinach and I remembered my balcony gets great sunlight, so I was researching setting up a balcony vegetable garden-.”

Dick sighed. “Oh no.”

“You didn’t buy anything, did you?” Tim asked as Bruce ushered the three of them out of the sunroom and towards the backdoor.

“I bought a compost tumbler,” Stephanie said proudly.

“Do you even know how to make compost?” Dick asked.

“I read about it on the internet, and the guy at Home Depot was super helpful,” Stephanie said excitedly. “And besides, Alfie said he would help me get it set up when I texted him earlier. He even said he’d give me some seedlings.”

“He didn’t give me any seedlings when I moved out,” Tim said, a disgruntled expression on his face.

“That’s because you killed a cactus,” Dick said with a snort.

Bruce let the conversation wash over him as they walked through the manor.

The kitchen was a mess by Alfred’s standards, with a neat pile of used mixing bowls and pots sitting by the sink and an even bigger pile of clean dishes stacked neatly on the drying rack. Both dishwashers were on, and there were a few trays of freshly baked brownies on the counter.

Tim got slapped on the back of the hand by Stephanie when he tried to take one.

Hal came in through the backdoor just as they were about to exit. He was holding a pair of tongs and he smelled like cooking meat and grass.

“Have a good nap, you two?” he asked, clicking his pair of tongs a few times. “You were both out like a light when I went to get Dames.”

Tim smiled at him. “Yeah, but I still don’t get surds,” he said.

“A what?” Dick asked, blinking.

“It’s… it’s a maths thing,” Stephanie said.

“Not a real one,” Dick said. “What the hell is a surd?”

“That is the question,” Hal teased, ruffling Tim’s hair. “Now, I’ve been sent to chop tomatoes, so it looks like I’ve four people to delegate said task to-”

“Oh, my name is being called!” Dick said suddenly, giving them a grin before he darted through the kitchen door.

“C’mon nerd boy, you can go talk nerdy stuff with Jason out by the grill,” she said teasingly, looping her arm with Tim’s. “You’ll just have to chop those tomatoes by yourself, Uncle Hal.”

Hal looked offended. “Not uncle- It makes me sound old!” he shouted after Stephanie.

Bruce smiled at the put out look on Hal’s face. “Uncle Hal.”

“Don’t you start,” Hal snapped good naturedly. “Come on, help me chop the tomatoes. Dick massacred the ones for the salad and he and Stephanie ate more than they put in the bowl, so we’re short.”

Bruce glanced out into the back lawn as Hal clattered around with the chopping boards. From here, he could see the veritable mountain of burger patties, sausage links, and grilled vegetables on the barbeque Jason was tending to.

Alfred had moved his beloved air fryer outside to a small table and he appeared to have an entire crop of potatoes piled up next to him.

“That’s not even the half of it,” Hal said with a snort. “Jason bought mac and cheese, and Stephanie bought fruit salad. I would say we have enough, but then, I’ve seen how much Colin eats and Tim’s here too, so that may not be true.”

“We have plenty of food,” Bruce said, glancing into Alfred’s very well stocked fridge. He collected box of fresh tomatoes, handing them to Hal. “I think maybe three trays of brownies was overkill.”

“One of those is for Jon and Colin to take home,” Hal said as he started to chop the tomatoes. There was a second board and knife laid out pointedly. “We have to share the other tray.”

“I still think we have enough food,” Bruce said, starting to chop his own tomatoes.

As they chopped, a glint caught his eye and Bruce glanced over to see Hal’s wedding and engagement rings flash in the fading sunlight as he chopped the tomatoes into small, even pieces.

For a moment, Bruce could only stare, not for the first time in his life, taken by surprise at Hal even being here. Hal was a handsome man, and even more so in the orange red light of the sunset and it was odd to Bruce that he had so easily taken to Bruce’s life.

Bruce looked away, back out over the lawn of the manor. He could see Dick and Jason arguing over the grill while Alfred tended to the air fryer. Damian, Jon, and Colin were playing with Titus and Ace, both dogs chasing after the boys excitedly. And Tim and Stephanie were setting the table, appearing to bicker good naturedly.

As he watched, Bruce was certain that his parents would approve. Hal may not be the socialite wife they envisioned, and Bruce’s children may not the be biological, but this was a family he had built, and he knew they would be happy for him.

“Oi, are you going help me or just stand there like a really good looking statue?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Gave Tim some love since I tend to neglect him a little bit in my stories.
> 
> It’s 12:30 at night so I need to finish it here, though I did have another scene planned. I couldn’t fit everyone in since I capped myself at 5k words for this and I already went over it lmao. And if I include all the kids, things tend to get chaotic fast. For Bruce, and me since I have to keep track of where everyone is in a given scene and planning dialogue patterns gets ridiculous.
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed this slice of life/lazy Sunday oneshot!


End file.
